


Episode 3: In The Beginning

by inkandpaperqwerty



Series: Bright Smiles and Bloody Lips [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Adorable Sam Winchester, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But the Physical Symptoms are a Result of Said Abuse, Canon Compliant Until Season 4, Caring Sam Winchester, Castiel is not good with kids, Childhood Trauma, Cute, Episode: s04e03 In the Beginning, Fluff, Gen, It Isn't Discussed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Past Sexual Abuse, Sam Winchester Sings, Sam Winchester is a Saint, Season/Series 04, Single Parent Sam Winchester, Universe Alteration, Walmart, give him time, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 21:03:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperqwerty/pseuds/inkandpaperqwerty
Summary: "Dean expected Sam to find a way to cope after he was dragged to Hell. By no means did he, even for a moment, think Sam might look to parenting as a coping mechanism."Sam and Liam are on a Walmart run when Castiel whisks Dean away to 1973. Sam and Liam restock necessary supplies, such as soft things and slinkies, and would have returned home to find Dean missing... but then Ruby. Just Ruby.





	Episode 3: In The Beginning

“Sorzie? Sorzie, wake up. I need you.”

Sam jolted with a gasp and sat up, only half-conscious. Images of Cold Oak faded from his mind, leaving him to stare at nothing for a good five seconds before his attention was grabbed by little hands on his sleeve.

“Sorzie?”

Sam rubbed his eye and looked over at Liam, who stood by the bed and stared back with wide, glassy eyes. “Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep ‘cause I keep havin’ bad dreams and my tummy won’t stop hurting.” Liam looked down, sniffling, but he didn’t let go of Sam’s sleeve. “M’sorry for waking you up… but I—"

“Shh, it’s okay.” Sam pulled Liam against his side and glanced at the clock, seeing it was almost four. “How about we…” he trailed off into a yawn, “…go to the store? We can find a twenty-four-hour place and shop for a while. What do you say?”

Liam nodded tearfully and cautiously wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck, looking at him in a silent request for permission to hold on.

Sam gave him a sleepy smile and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pulling Liam into his lap with another yawn. “You already got dressed?” he asked, feeling sneakers against his thighs.

Liam nodded his head against Sam’s shoulder.

“Did you have an accident, Liam?” Sam kept his tone as non-accusatory as possible, knowing it was a source of both embarrassment and fear for Liam.

Liam nodded again, still silent, and he sniffled quietly.

“Hey, that’s okay.” Sam pressed his lips together, rubbing Liam’s back and asking a question he already knew the answer to. “Do you need any help cleaning it up?”

Liam shook his head. “I cleaned it.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Liam’s half of the bed, which was made but clearly had a folded towel under the comforter. “You did a good job.” He smiled slightly. “You know it’s okay to ask for help, right?”

Liam didn’t respond for a moment, but then he offered a faint nod.

 _No, you don’t._ “Can you sit on the bed while I get shoes on?” Sam whispered.

Liam nodded yet again and let his arms fall slack, shifting his weight until he rolled onto the mattress next to Sam.

“Thanks, buddy.” Sam gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and got to his feet, moving quickly.

He grabbed a flannel from the floor, a jacket from the nearby chair, and his shoes from beside the door, throwing them all on as quickly and quietly as he could.

Liam hopped off the bed and shuffled closer, waiting until Sam’s foot was all the way in his work boot to reach out for another hug.

Sam scooped Liam up and grabbed the keys from the table, stopping in the door for a few seconds and briefly considering leaving a note. In the end, he shook his head and continued outside to the Impala. Dean was sound asleep, Sam was hoping to be back before he woke, and they had cellphones for a reason.

“Okay, buddy, I think there’s a Walmart up the road. You wanna check it out?”

Liam nodded again, silent, and Sam cast a brief glance skyward.

_I know it’s not as important as pulling Dean out of Hell, but… if Castiel is listening… if this even works that way… getting rid of Liam’s nightmares would be really good for him. Even just a night or two… he really needs the sleep, and, uh… well, it’d just be appreciated._

Sam didn’t stop and wait for a response, not wanting to admit to Liam how desperate he was for a solution, but he still felt the sinking disappointment when no one showed up and nothing happened.

“Okay. Wally World, here we come.”

* * *

“What do you think? Should we get a throw pillow for the Impala?” Sam grinned when Liam giggled, and he tried to lengthen the laugh by grabbing a furry, pink, zebra-print pillow from the shelf. “What about this one? I think Dean would love it.”

Liam giggled, face still red from crying, eyes underlined with dark circles; he grabbed a purple, heart-shaped pillow from the next shelf down. “No, this one!”

Sam laughed and looked back at the wall of pillows, grabbing the Frozen one and holding it up. “Maybe this?”

Liam laughed again, pointing to another pillow. “Messy bun and gettin’ stuff done! I like it.” He looked up at Sam again, grinning. “You could have a messy bun. You have long hair.”

“Hey, now.” Sam put the pillows back, still smiling, and he crouched down. “Do you really want a pillow, Liam? Or maybe a stuffed animal? We can get some toys and things while we’re here.”

Liam looked at the wall for a moment and then back at Sam, his eyes wide with awe. “Can I really?”

Sam smiled and nodded his head, fighting the urge to yawn. “Sure. You wanna check out the other aisles?”

Liam bounced on his toes slightly, nodding his head. “Yeah! Can we?”

“Sure.” Sam reached out and took the pillow Liam had been holding, placing it on the shelf and walking toward the end of the aisle. He leaned to one side… “Uh, that’s lamps,” …and then took a few steps the other way. “Here!”

Liam scurried after him, looking up at the new wall of pillows with excitement. “Ooh. They’re really soft.” He felt a few different ones, and his face lit up as he pulled out a pink one with gold writing. “It says, ‘good things come to babes who hustle.’ See?” He held it up to Sam, excited. “We should get this for Baby. She hustles all the time, taking us everywhere.”

Sam didn’t bother restraining his smile, and despite knowing how Dean would feel about it, he nodded his head. “If you want to get that for Baby, we can.”

“I do.” Liam nodded a few times and continued looking around. “Could I…”

Sam waited a few moments, but Liam was just standing in front of the blanket section with a worried look on his face. “Could you what, buddy?”

“Could I… maybe…” he squirmed in place, “…get a blanket, too?”

Sam smiled warmly and nodded his head. “Of course.” He reached out and beckoned Liam with a flick of his fingers. “Come on, let’s go get a cart.”

Liam smiled and ran over, grabbing onto Sam’s hand and holding it to his chest. He squished the pillow against it as they walked, curious blue eyes wandering from object to object.

Sam smiled to himself but didn’t say anything. He had already tried asking Liam about the nightmares on the drive over, and that hadn’t gone well. He would ask again, but not at four twenty in the morning; four twenty in the morning was the time to distract and soothe.

“Sorzie, what’s that mean?”

Sam stopped walking and followed Liam’s line of sight to a bright yellow pet bed. Upon closer inspection, Sam saw the words ‘you are my sunshine’ written in white, loopy letters.

“Oh, they’re lyrics from a song.”

Liam’s face screwed up in confusion. “What song?”

Sam looked down at him. “You know, the…” He glanced around, but the store was almost entirely empty, and it wasn’t like he was a _terrible_ singer, so… “You are my suuunshine, my only suuunshine, you make me haaappyyy when skies are graaay… you’ve never heard that?”

Liam shook his head, squeezing Sam’s hand tightly. “Huh-uh.” He stared for a second more, and then he smiled. “I like it! Can that be my pillow?”

Sam laughed at the idea but ultimately shrugged. “It’s kinda big, but… if that’s what you want.” It might be good to have a big pillow for long trips in the Impala. It could make things a little more comfortable in the backseat. “Is that what you want, Liam?”

Liam nodded a few times, dropping the pillow in his hand in order to reach out and pet the yellow fibers. “It’s so soft…”

Sam crouched down and pet the pillow a few times himself. “Ooh, yeah it is.” He grabbed onto the edge of it and pulled it from the bottom shelf. “I got this one. Do you have that one?”

Liam grabbed the fallen ‘babes who hustle’ pillow.

“We’ve got all our pillows, right?” Sam asked.

“Yup!” Liam nodded affirmatively, still holding Sam’s hand against his chest. “Cart?”

“Cart.” Sam nodded, also affirmatively, and started walking again.

“Can you sing the song again?” Liam asked, squeezing Sam’s hand again.

Sam hesitated, knowing they were growing closer to the front of the store, where half-conscious cashiers would be around to hear. “I…” He wet his lips and cleared his throat, singing as quietly as he could while still letting Liam hear him. “You are my suuunshine, my only suuunshine…”

By the time they got their cart and made it back to the blanket aisle, Sam was singing the same verse for the third time. It was the last time, though. Really, it was. Not like the last time it was the last time, because that had turned out to be the second-to-last time. But this time—the third time—really _was_ going to be the last time.

“One more time?” Liam asked, putting an old-school-gaming-systems-themed blanket into the cart.

Sam groaned to the ceiling. “You’re killing me, smalls.” He laughed softly, tousling Liam’s hair. “How about we shop for a bit and give my voice a break?”

Liam pursed his lips and considered the offer a moment. “Okay!” As if he would ever refuse or argue. “Can we get apples? I love apples.” Liam grabbed onto Sam’s flannel, not liking the fact that the cart had taken Sam’s hand from him. “Ooh, and oranges?”

“We can get some fruit, yeah.” Sam smiled down at him, and for a moment, he almost forgot they were on a nightmare-fueled, four-in-the-morning, try-not-to-think-about-everything-wrong-with-the-world grocery run.

It got even easier to forget as they traveled through the store, collecting whatever suited their fancy. They got some flannel shirts and work boots for Liam, keeping in mind the fast-approaching fall as they grabbed a couple beanies, too. Sam grabbed an overdue pack of briefs for himself, and an even more overdue pack of socks for Dean.

Sam picked out some books with educational properties—research told him sixth grade was a time of homophones, suffixes, decimals, ratios, and other similar language and math functions—and he couldn’t keep himself from grabbing Schoolhouse Rock and Liberty’s Kids on DVD. Outdated? Sure. But he could get the complete series of each for ten bucks a pop, so he was happy. Liam also picked out some early-reader books that sounded interesting to him, and Sam was quick to encourage the purchase. Not that Sam was going to stress the issue—more stress was the last thing Liam needed—but Liam _was_ behind on his vocabulary and spelling, so if he was independently reaching out for more access to reading materials, Sam was all about it.

Liam picked out a stuffed kitten that was exiled to the clearance section after a machine screwed up its left ear. He got three Nerf guns with extra bullets, coercing Sam into promises of a three-way battle with Dean, and a slinky. He asked for roller blades, but Sam cast a hesitant glance at the purchases they had already accumulated and said Liam should think about whether he really wanted to put the time into learning to use them before they bought some. Liam was fine with that, and Sam tucked the idea in the back of his mind as a potential Christmas gift.

It was almost five in the morning by the time they got to the grocery section, and Liam actually looked kind of happy. Sam actually _felt_ kind of happy.

Then his phone rang.

Sam pulled the device from his pocket and flipped it open, holding it to his head with his shoulder while his hand returned to steer the cart. “Hello?”

“Sam, we need to talk.”

Sam had been expecting Dean, and he heaved a sigh when he realized his error. “Ruby, we _have_ talked.”

“No, like, right now. I think I might have a lead on Lilith.”

That gave Sam pause, but Liam trotting along in his peripheral vision gave him more pause. “I…” He sighed softly. “What would I need to do?”

“Just be here. 425 Waterman. I’ve got a demon tied up, and the vessel is definitely alive, but if the demon doesn’t have information, the only way he’s leaving is a one-way ticket to Hell. Without your powers…” She trailed off, letting him finish the worst-case scenario however he pleased.

Sam grit his teeth together, knowing she had a point but also knowing she was stubbornly trying to get what she wanted. Though, it wasn’t as if she wanted something _bad;_ she wanted revenge on Lilith, and she was considering the lives of vessels even without him there to twist her arm. That was a good sign, right?

“Sorzie?”

“Just—just a second, bud.” Sam wet his lips and stopped, grabbing the phone from his neck to hold it instead. “I’ll… I’ll be there, and I’ll take a look. This is not a promise to do anything. If the vessel looks really unhealthy, or if the de—”

“Look, Sam, I know you’re really dragging your feet with the whole demon blood thing, but…” She sighed, and when she spoke again, there was a striking amount of sincerity in her voice. “Just get here. Alright? Maybe we can talk… work something out.”

Sam looked at Liam again and, after a long pause, nodded his head. “Yeah, okay. We can talk. I’m buying groceries right now, but I’ll be there. Just… just sit tight.”

“Good.” She paused. “Sam?”

“Yeah?” he answered, walking halfway down the aisle to grab a box of cereal.

“I miss you, you know.”

Sam stopped, immediately pushing the ache in his chest out of the way. “I… I miss you, too.”

For a moment, there was nothing, and then she let out a sharp exhale. “Uh, see you soon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Sam nodded a few times and shoved his phone back into his pocket, ready to resume shopping. “Hey, Liam?”

Liam looked up from where he was sitting on the floor by the cart.

Sam sighed and crouched down, brushing the bangs out of Liam’s tired eyes as his train of thought took a brief detour. “You’re tired, aren’t you, bud?”

Liam nodded a few times and yawned.

Sam pressed his lips together. “I have to visit with Miss Ruby for a little while. Maybe you can try and sleep when we—”

“No! I don’t wanna sleep.” Liam shook his head vigorously. “Don’t wanna sleep, Sorzie.”

Sam forced a tight smile and nodded. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry.”

Liam shrugged his shoulders, tugging on the hem of his blue t-shirt.

“I, uh… I think I have some math sheets in the car… and you did just get some new books. Maybe you can try and stay awake that way?”

Maybe he shoulder have tried harder to make Liam sleep, but Sam knew from experience it was a futile effort. There were few things worse than jolting awake in terror every time you were on the verge of sleep because you feared what waited on the other of consciousness.

“Sorzie, do you love Miss Ruby?”

Sam paused, startled by the question, and proceeded carefully. “I… don’t know, Liam.”

Liam’s face twisted up, head cocking to one side. “How do you not know?”

“Well… there’s a difference between having feelings for someone and loving them. Sometimes, you have feelings for a person… but it isn’t wise or safe or healthy to be with them, and you have to stop the relationship before it gets too far.” Sam wet his lips, his own head tilting slightly as he sought Liam’s eyes. “Does that make sense?”

Liam stared at the space in front of him for a moment, lips pursed, eyes thoughtful but underlined by dark circles and red rims. Finally, after several seconds of intense thought, he looked up at Sam and said, in all seriousness, “You’re twitterpated.”

It took Sam a moment to realize Liam was referring to _Bambi_ , but once he did, it was impossible to hold back the smile. “Yes. I’ve been twitterpated by Miss Ruby.”

“But you don’t know if it’s a good idea to love her?” Liam asked quietly, folding his arms and resting them atop his knees. “Is that right?”

Sam pressed his lips together and nodded a few times. “Yeah. See, when you love someone… you make decisions every day to show them that love.” He gestured to Liam. “Like, for example, drawing them pictures and giving them hugs.” He then gestured to himself. “Or taking them places they need to go and providing for them when they need things.”

Liam nodded seriously, and for all the fatigue weighing on his tiny body, he really did seem to understand.

“So, I’m twitterpated by Ruby, but… I don’t know if it’s a good idea to start making those decisions.” He flashed a smile and combed a hand through the messy, red locks. “Do you see what I mean?”

Liam wet his lips and nodded, yawning briefly, but it was clear there was still something on his mind. “So… you know I love you because I show you… and you show me, too, so…” He tensed, preparing for a blow, and regarded Sam with cautious eyes. “You love me, too?”

Sam somehow buried the grimace threatening to show in reaction to the pain in his chest. “Yes, Liam, I do. I love you very much.”

“You say that a lot.” Liam blinked a few times. “But you don’t just say it. You mean it, don’t you?”

Sam nodded his head and smiled warmly, running his fingers through Liam’s hair again. “I absolutely mean it. Do you mean it, too?”

Liam nodded vigorously.

“Good.” Sam smiled.

Liam wet his lips, gave the floor several seconds of thoughtful staring, and then looked up at Sam again. “Sorzie, can I still get apples?”

 _His brain must run on thirty tracks at once._ But Sam smiled and stood up, taking Liam’s hand and helping him stand shortly after. “Don’t worry. We’re gonna finish shopping before we go see Miss Ruby.”

“I know where the apples are.” Liam dusted himself off. “Can I get them by myself?”

 _No!_ said every instinct Sam had in him.

“Yeah, just come right back,” said the part of Sam that knew twelve was plenty old enough to be less than ten aisles away in a nearly empty store.

“Okay.” Liam bounded off, humming _You Are My Sunshine_ as he went.

Sam let a smile linger on his lips for all of three seconds before it fell, his thoughts returning to Ruby and her… well, _their_ unorthodox methods.

 _I don’t know about this…_ but if it meant finding Lilith… if it meant protecting Dean, and Bobby, and Liam… _what choice do I have?_

* * *

“I don’t know, Ruby.” Sam let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling with himself. “It’s bad enough I did it at all and didn’t tell Dean, but to start again now that he's out? Start drinking and lying and… and now with the angels getting involved—”

Ruby took him by the shoulders. “Sam, Dean is exactly why you need to start again. You didn’t want to keep using your powers because you were worried about Liam. Dean is here now, and he can help you take care of Liam.” She shook her head, and there was genuine concern in her eyes. “I told you, Sam, Hell won’t stop. You’re not doing this for revenge, not anymore. You have to protect yourself, and Dean, and _Liam._ Because Lilith is going to keep finding ways to get at you, to get inside your head, and right now?” She nodded past him in the general direction of a table covered with math sheets, eyes lingering on the little redhead scratching out answers with a neon pink pencil. “You’re giving her a pretty obvious way to do that.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at Liam, a sick feeling twisting in his stomach. He looked back at Ruby and wet his lips, uncertain and conflicted and frustrated. “How would we even pick back up? If Dean is going to help with Liam, he’s going to know how often I’m gone. He’ll want answers, and if I get caught in a lie, we’re screwed.”

“Then don’t get caught in a lie.” Ruby shook her head. “Sam, we’ve got to at least try. Do you really want to be in the middle of this—this massive, apocalyptic fight with a sawed-off shotgun and one demon-killing knife?”

Sam looked down at his shoes, and then he looked over his shoulder again. “No, of course not.” He watched Liam wiggle in place—the kid hated sitting still—and felt a weak smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I want to keep him safe.” He looked back at Ruby, hesitated for a long moment, and then he sighed softly. “You said you’ve got a demon in the other room?”

“Yeah.” Ruby nodded, also casting a look over toward Liam. She lowered her voice, not wanting him to hear the more unpleasant aspects of the conversation. “I interrogated him while I waited for you, but I thought maybe you could give it a try. We can’t get too loud for obvious reasons, but if we can get something out of him—anything out of him, really—it’ll be helpful.”

Sam considered his options for a moment more, and then he gave a reluctant nod. It wasn’t as if he was picking a fight with Hell; the fight had already started, he just wanted to end it. He wanted everyone in Hell to know Liam and Dean were off limits. If he could do that… _and_ save innocents… _and_ help prevent the Apocalypse…

“Okay. Just a quick question or two, no torture or yelling, and then I get rid of him.” Basically, nothing Liam might overhear and nothing that took more than a few minutes.

Ruby sighed in relief, seemingly unbothered by the stipulations. “Thank goodness.”

Sam walked over to the table and knelt down next to Liam’s chair, flashing a quick smile. “Hey. Miss Ruby and I have some work to do in the other room. Can you finish these pages on your own?”

Liam nodded, not looking up from the page of division facts he was doing. “Yeah… do I have to read when I’m done?”

Sam shook his head. “No, you can take a break. If you feel tired enough, you should try to go back to sleep.”

Liam shook his head vigorously, still staring at his papers.

“Okay, okay.” Sam held up his hands in a display of surrender, speaking gently. “It’s okay. Sometimes, after a bad nightmare, I don’t want to go to sleep, either.” He gestured vaguely to Liam’s middle. “How’s your tummy?”

Liam shrugged. “Better, I guess.” He pursed his lips, thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah. Better.”

“Good.” Sam smiled and then tousled Liam’s hair. “I won’t be long, okay?”

Liam nodded his head but said nothing, resting his head on his schoolwork as he scratched down another answer.

 _It must have been a bad one._ Sam did his best to keep the concern and sadness from his face, knowing Liam would only see it as disappointment. _I thought he was doing better. Though, I guess he’s been under a lot of stress these past couple days. Lots of change… lots of anxiety…_

Sam set the thoughts aside for a better time and went to join Ruby in the adjacent room. He closed the door tight behind him and joined her by the chair, taking the offered bottle of blood from her hand. He finished the drink in under a minute—he had gotten pretty good at quick consumption as long as it was room temperature—and he tossed the empty bottle aside.

“We don’t have time to waste, so… where’s Lilith?”

Ruby rolled her eyes at the lack of tact or method. Sam didn't care.

“Up yours, Winchester,” the demon spat.

“You know anything about angels?” Sam sighed the words, already fed up.

“Sure. They suck, they fly, they’re a pain.”

Sam pressed his lips together, solemn. “I’d watch myself if I were you.”

“Why? Huh? Because you’re Sam Winchester, Mr. Big Hero? You—”

“Because I’m on a tight schedule, and if you aren’t useful, we’re done here.” Sam gave the demon a hard look, but all he got was another spewed insult.

“Screw you.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” He extended his hand and started to focus, calling on faint thrum in his veins. _It won’t take long, nobody has to know, and if it helps me keep everyone safe… it’s worth it. Besides, Dean would flip, but Liam… Liam doesn’t really know any better. He won’t think I’m a monster. Not if I explain things to him._

Sam continued to assure himself as he tore the demon from its host, doubt swirling in the pit of his stomach the entire time.

* * *

“Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we’re not sure where it leads. So stop it, or we will.”

Castiel watched Dean leave the motel room behind, the door slamming shut behind him. He should have left then—his work was done, he had no reason to stay, and he could travel instantaneously—but he didn’t. Because, while watching Dean, he had caught a glimpse of an unusually small pair of pants on the floor by Sam’s bed.

Now, to Castiel’s knowledge, the Winchesters had no children. There was Adam Milligan, their younger half-brother, but he was still of adult age and size. No nieces or nephews to speak of, no young cousins, certainly no grandchildren _._

Castiel took a few steps to his left and reached down, gingerly lifting the fabric from the floor. It was slightly damp under his touch, and a quick sniff told him why. _Urine._ His brow creased, nose crinkling as he scrutinized the article. _Typically, children of this size are no longer incontinent._

But that wasn’t really relevant. What _was_ relevant was the fact Castiel still didn’t know who the child was or where they had come from. Briefly, he thought back to the boy in Bobby Singer’s house. Liam, if Castiel recalled correctly; he had quite the disrespectful mouth on him, but he seemed fond of Dean. Castiel had assumed the boy belonged to the Singer household… which, he supposed, was still possible. Maybe Sam and Dean were simply… what was the term? Babysitting. Perhaps they were simply babysitting Bobby’s relative for him.

Still, it was something to keep an eye on. Children were precious in more than just the sight of the Lord; humans did strange things when children were involved. Children were fiercely protected, and humanity viewed crimes against children as exceptionally disgusting and heartless. Allegedly, humans still went to battle at times, fighting for ‘custody’ to determine who reared which children and how often.

It all sounded very complicated, and the last thing their plan needed was complications.

Castiel glanced around the room, trying to find further signs of a child’s presence. He saw some small replicas of vehicles lined up in the corner, and several pieces of paper had been written on or contorted into odd shapes or, in one instance, both. The Winchesters kept their clothing perpetually packed up, so there were no signs of tiny shirts or shoes, but Castiel was inclined to think they existed.

There was definitely a child living in the motel with them. If there had been any doubt, the rainbow box of colored pencils on the table erased it. It hadn’t taken Castiel very long to learn that, by and large, bright colors were associated with children. Parks, playgrounds, clothing, toys, linens, living quarters—every time he saw a small child, they were accompanied by _something_ of a vibrant nature. Some adults were the same, but not nearly as many.

Castiel tilted his head slightly, trying to get a look at the project the child had been working on. It was an angel, depicted in and surrounded by stained glass, and the colored wings were… well, they were purple where they met the angel’s back, a color which faded into blue and then green at the tips. Castiel’s wings didn’t look like that; however, they _were_ iridescent black which, when struck by light, reflected those three colors in between the strains of ebony.

Curiosity was unbecoming of an angel, but he reached out and grabbed the picture anyway, lifting it from the table with a slightly arched brow. Once there was light behind the sheet, he could see there was something written on the back, and he promptly turned it over.

 

_For Castiel_

_I made this for you because Dean says your good. He says your really powerfull and I shouldn’t pick fights with you, but I say be nice to Dean or I’ll kick you in the shin._

_Love, Liam_

_P.S. Sorry I don’t spell good. I’m not that smart._

Castiel frowned slightly. Surprisingly, the petulance didn’t bother him. Well, it did, but it was a mild irritant, like every other threat humanity made. No, what bothered him was the end. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but it didn’t sit right with him. It made him suspicious. That clear contradiction between overconfidence and embarrassment. That odd combination of animosity and a desire to impress. That abrasive, timid… _something…_ Castiel couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Castiel cast a glance around the room despite knowing he was alone, and with careful, precise movements, he folded it into a square and slipped it into his vessel’s pocket. He grabbed a dark blue pencil and a blank sheet of paper, scrawling out a message of his own before vanishing into the night.

 

_Liam,_

_Dean is right; your mouth will get you into trouble one day. You would do well to keep it in check. Your spelling was fine, your errors minimal, and your colors pleasing to look at._

_Castiel_

 

**Author's Note:**

> And we all know what happens next, don't we?


End file.
